


Jilted lovers, Deep Roads

by themoonowl



Series: Spirits, Sorcerers and Soulful Nights [8]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Action & Romance, Ancient Elves (Dragon Age), Angst, Darkspawn, Deep Roads (Dragon Age), Dragon Age: Inquisition - The Descent DLC, Dwarves, F/M, Gen, Knight-Enchanters, Sha Brytol, Titans (Dragon Age), Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 12:06:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18850738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themoonowl/pseuds/themoonowl
Summary: The Deep Roads: now with 69% more sexual tension. And a lot of battle scenes.Inspired by some questionable decisions by Solas's AI in battle and some questionable decisions by Solas, the character.





	Jilted lovers, Deep Roads

The air was filled with the sharp, acrid stench of the Void itself; a curse that recalled of a dire time predating the very creation of the Veil. It grew stronger as the lift descended and with it a question on Solas's mind—why was  _ he _ brought on this particular mission? Dorian was a mage of the Inquisitor's inner circle as well; and with surely a better standing with Syl'a than himself at present. Yet she did not give any answers. Nor did he think to ask. The opportunity to visit the Deep Roads was an alluring one—a chance to safely observe the lost and scattered dreams of spirits watching over a once mighty civilization.

Yet the question remained on his mind, ever present and puzzling. If in her sorrow she brought him here to dispose of him— no. That did not sound like her. Perhaps a rekindling? The Deep Roads did not seem the type of place one would reconnect. It did not matter.

Her everite armour glistened from the remaining light shining from the cracks in the earth above. It was modeled on patterns similar to those of the guardians in the Temple of Mythal. And her tall form appeared just like that—like of the arcane warriors of his time as she gazed into the fray, strong and beautiful.

A sinking feeling gripped his abdomen. This was not the time for such distractions. Corypheus— The People deserved nothing more than his full attention. But what of her?

The Deep Roads were not the right place for these thoughts. The mission needed to continue onwards.

* * *

 

Bringing Solas on yet another mission was perhaps not the best decision that Syl made. Not after what happened at Crestwood. But if one good thing remained from their time together, it was the fighting they did as a team—she would trap the enemies in a cage made of lightning while he would pull them close together inside it. And all that was left was to take them head on with her spectral blade.

As they descended further into darkness, she could practically feel his gaze on her. It was clear there was something there, something he was adamant at keeping a secret. But the Deep Roads were surely not the place for a heartfelt talk. Not that the location mattered. He still wouldn't say why he left, even after visiting the vibrant landscapes of the Frostback Basin, finding Inquisitor Ameridan and discovering the romance between him and his lover,  _ his _ magically skilled dreamer.

The lift reached the end as the stench of rot reached a point it couldn't possibly top. It was time to see what had awaited the Inquisition in these blighted tunnels.

* * *

 

“Shrieks. It had to be shrieks.” Lieutenant Renn's let out a gravelly sigh.

From the stories she'd heard, shrieks were the darkspawn version of her people—elves corrupted and twisted into the foul marsh-skinned creatures that they were, agile, fast and deadly. Five of them approached the group at once, their speed making them almost invisible to the naked eye. Syl placed a static cage and fade-stepped behind them—only for their paralyzed bodies to slowly drift further away with every step and swing she made with her spectral blade.

It was then she noticed Solas's Fade rift behind their heads, pulling them backwards and away from her. It was too late to respond with more sword swings at this point so instead she focused on the stray electricity that filled the air around her and channeled it into the shriek in front of her. The static bounced from one darkspawn to the other, making the group shake even more wildly, but the bastards still weren’t dead. Moreover, Solas didn't do the usual part of their strategy.

“What are you doing?!” She yelled, but with no answer.

It was then that Cole's ghostly self moved through the pack of darkspawn, cutting most of them down while Varric took care of any remaining twitch, ending the fight for the time being.

Syl strode to Solas, knuckles tightly gripping both her staff and hilt. “Why did you put the rift there, I almost had them!”

His eyebrows raised for just a moment at her anger, but in typical fashion his face formed a calm, emotionless expression. “I apologize. The dim light in these caves appeared to have distorted my vision and I seemed to have missed your cage.”

His impassive face made it clear that anything she said would just lead to an argument; one she was not ready to have here and not in front of Valta and Renn. She sheathed her hilt and staff and focused on his eyes, almost as to channel her frustration forward, as well as her hurt. A subtle motion that he appeared to read through, his eyebrows subtly twitching inward and upward, breaking his calm demeanor.

* * *

 

It was difficult to tell the time in these dark caverns, but it felt like it was day three of being in the Deep Roads. Luckily nobody in the group had been tainted after so much fighting; Lieutenant Renn's cautionary measures were heeded rigorously—a cloth over the mouth so darkspawn blood won’t be ingested by accident, less stabbing and more slashing if the fight is in close quarters and to always listen to stray noises that might appear behind a person.

There was another advantage as well—fighting with a spectral blade. Syl wouldn't need to wipe the tainted acidic blood off the sword after every minor encounter. The rest of her small group was perfect for the mission too; Solas cast spells from a distance, Varric shot with Bianca from a vantage point he would usually find and the Blight's effects did not appear to be a problem for Cole’s spirit nature.

The group now stood in front of a big gate, possibly an entrance to a nest, by the pungent smell emanating from it. It was not looking to be an easy fight.

As the gate opened, the first creatures that attacked were shrieks, followed by hurlocks and genlocks shortly after. The group defeated the first wave with relative ease and moved further in. Wave after wave they cut down both hurlock and genlock alphas before reaching a ruined building of a sort; the figures of two ogres peeking through the narrow door.

One had its back turned, so a plan was quickly formed—ambush it and take it out as soon as possible.

Syl went first with an electric paralyze spell, followed by Cole's ghostly blades in its flesh. At the same time Varric launched a volley of three rhythmic bolts into the ogre's back and Solas froze the creature solid, right as it was about to scream. Valta and Renn finished the job—Renn shattered one of its frozen arms with his maul as Valta bashed her shield in the legs, making the ogre fall on its face. Renn concluded the fight by smashing the creature's frozen head.

The other ogre took notice and charged for the pair of armoured dwarves that were now inside the building, knocking them out. Syl fade-stepped behind the ogre and the first thing she did was launch a barrage of lightning bolts aimed at the creature—continuing with a slash of her sword as the rest of the party moved inside. The ogre turned and roared and just as she was running to its side to escape another charge, its giant fingers found their way around her waist and she was now in the air, its other fist flying towards her—

And a boulder hit the ogre's head, causing it to drop Syl to the ground. That kind of spell could only come from one place—Solas. He stood in front of the ogre now, his eyes lit and his teeth bare and his form tall like drawings of the elves of old in ancient murals left barely standing. He cast a transparent fist from the ground, lifting the disoriented brute and dropping it with an earth shaking thump, its body laying face-up.

Cole took this opportunity to sink his blades into its flesh and Renn pummeled the ogre's head until it was only a pile of dark blood and flesh.

But the fight wasn't over yet.

Arms twisting in weird movements and a head with pointed ears appeared from the inner door, its form lanky and hovering just a couple inches off the ground.

“Kill the emissary!” yelled Lieutenant Renn and charged at the creature, swinging his maul at its thin, sickly body. But hitting only air.

The emissary reappeared behind Varric who did a flip and fired a bolt at it midair. Cole revealed himself behind the creature and sunk his blades in whatever flesh the creature had left; then continued with a kick to its legs and a few slashes, making the emissary howl in response.

Syl, now off the ground, cast lightning at the magic darkspawn at the same time Solas's cool magic enveloped her in a barrier. The spell she cast didn't do much—the creature didn't shake wildly as others usually did—its immunity to magic meant physical attacks were going to do the trick.

The emissary teleported again, this time in a more convenient position—the center of the room, right in front of Syl. She swung her blade at it with force; accompanied by Valta's sword and shield work. Renn joined in too with a couple of swings with his maul again, but as his luck would have it, the emissary vanished again away from both him and everyone, to a distant corner in the room.

Fortunately, Varric's stylemark rhyming triplet of bolts finished the job and the twisted creature collapsed in an unnatural way; almost like its bones stopped being connected to each other.

“Good job,” Renn's gravelly voice was the only thing remaining now, “Let's rest for a bit and then press on.”

“Yes. I can feel it. The source of the earthquakes should be just behind that door.” Valta added.

Syl dusted off her armour from the dirt it built up from both the fall and the fight and slowly walked to Solas, who was magically cleansing his robes.

“Ma serannas.” she said silently, making the bald elvhen slightly tremble before he turned, with the same calm expression on his face.

“I merely did my part. That ogre would have you…” His brows knitted together and he turned his head down in a sigh. “I am glad you are well, v— Inquisitor.”

“Solas…”

“Inquisitor, you ready to head out?” Renn interrupted.

“We’ll continue this another time.” Syl said, to which Solas merely nodded.

* * *

 

If the earth could speak, it would tell of the First Titan war, of the screams and blood spilled on it, of the despair hovering in the air while it lasted. The group was now inside a relic of that time, inside one of the remaining titans. And fortunately for Solas, they did not even know it. They had encountered new types of durgen'len, ones that coated themselves with the very blood of the being they claimed to protect. But much like the Dalish, the Children of the Stone had all but forgotten their true nature. Now they clung to fragments of fragments in a desperate bid to preserve something they thought was of value; and destroying it in the process.

They were close, not much longer. Only one fight appeared to remain on their path to the very heart of the titan—a large barrier and lots of lyrium-infused dwarves guarding it.

Syl'a and Valta went first, being the only heavily-armoured melee fighters of the group left. Solas remained behind with Varric as he tried to match the might of the mechanical crossbows of the Sha-Brytol.

The familiar smell of petrichor filled the air—a sign of Syla's magic and a signal for him to interfere. He placed a rift right in the center of Syla's lightning cage and swiftly she and Cole disposed of five enemies at once, taking a barrier-destroying weapon one of them dropped on the ground and running to place it in.

While Solas focused on her and the battle in front, a faint noise from behind alerted of a possible flanking charge. And he was correct; one of the warriors stood merely a foot behind him, fortunately occupied by Cole's fast movements. Another stood behind Varric, so he directed his attention there and froze the lyrium-infused dwarf just as his maul stood a mere palm above Varric's head.

Varric ran further away from the warrior who soon thawed and began to walk towards Solas, his short legs stiff from the ice that still gripped them. It was perhaps a good idea to distance himself, so he paced backwards as he shot bolt after bolt of magic at the dwarf, but to no avail.

The warrior soon closed the distance and diagonally swung with his stone maul; Solas dodged to the side, landing on the dwarf’s blind spot as his maul hit the ground with a loud thud. He lifted it and made another swing which Solas dodged once more, firing another bolt of magic doing so.

In a moment, the familiar smell of petrichor pierced through the metallic odor of the air and a light appeared behind the dwarven warrior, painting Syla’s silver hair and her dark-brown skin in a yellowish light, the colour of her spectral blade. She swung it and the dwarf fell down, leaving hers and Solas's eyes locked together for just a moment.

“Watch out!” Syl’a jumped to his side and deflected the rapid lyrium pellets coming his way with her blade of light, sending shockwaves back at the attackers. “Solas, Veilstrike!”

She was correct. From what he saw of the battle standing behind her, there were three bolters, two of which were close together to be toppled.

“Varric, on your right, give them chaos!” she commanded once more.

Solas cast a fist from the ground, lifting the two bolters and smashed them on the floor as Varric shot a glowing projectile that exploded when it reached the rightmost dwarf.

With that group now disposed of, only a few more were left before the lyrium barrier was set to detonate. Back to back, Solas and Syl'a wreaked havoc on both the warriors and the earthshakers of the enemy group; she went for the offensive while he supported her with barriers and boulders from the Fade itself.

And soon the battle was over, much to the relief of everyone left standing.

Several thoughts tickled Solas's mind. One of them was Syla's rescue; he did not need it of course, given the extent of his growing power. Yet she did not know that, and he had only himself to blame. And despite their uncordial standing, she leaped to help. Curious.

The group advanced to a relatively safe passage and set up camp for the time being. It was difficult if not impossible to tell the time of day, but regardless—that was a long and arduous fight. Rest was in order.

Syl'a went a short distance away with Valta, pondering over the ancient dwarven carvings on the walls. Solas remained with Varric and Cole near the freshly lit fire, eating what was left of their rations of food.

“So, Chuckles. You and our illustrious leader make a great team out there.”

“Indeed. Her unique training as a Knight Enchanter is useful. As are her skills with the more common modes of magic.”

“Yeah, but you also make a great  _ team _ . This is the first time I've seen her this lively after you two went on your little walk near Crestwood.”

“Emotional entanglements will not produce a victory in our fight against Corypheus. In any event, what transpired that night is of no concern to you, Child of the Stone.”

“Alright, fair enough. I don't know the details anyway. But I think you're wrong.  _ Emotional entanglement _ is what made you two great in battle over there. You don't have to be broody all the time Chuckles. Even you deserve some happiness.”

Syl'a and Valta returned to the miniscule camp and sat down around the fire, warming their hands.

“So, what were you two talking about while we were gone?” Syl'a raised her eyebrows at Varric, with just a glance at Solas.

“Oh, just battle things. You know how it is,” Varric winked at him. “Those dwarves sure had some fast crossbows. Bianca got a little jealous even.”

“Don't worry Varric,” Syl'a chuckled, “I’m sure Bianca knows you're a one-crossbow man.”

“Don't let  _ her _ hear you say that, this was the best she's ever been!”

A soothing air surrounded the fire as everyone sat around it, weary and tired yet satisfied with the battle's outcome. Solas excused and distanced himself early, hoping to catch some rest, wondering what dreams he might encounter within the titan itself.

All that greeted him in the Fade however were screams and agony; countless elves from his time, some even old friends he recognised from before the war—dying for a pointless cause.

He awoke covered in cold sweat to an almost doused fire. The first image he saw was of Syl’a—silver hair let down and sleeping peacefully across the embers. And for a moment everything was well and a soft smile found its way on his lips. Until it wasn’t. Next came the longing he repressed ever since he returned from Crestwood, a want greater than everything else—to hold her, kiss her, make the memories of his nightmares disappear. But his path was clear. There mustn’t be any distraction.

* * *

 

Valta’s directions proved right—the route she provided for their way back was free both from Sha-Brytol and darkspawn. And it appeared to be a day’s walk to the entrance. Tired as Syl and the others were from their mission, they did not stop for breaks; everyone wanted to get some rest in a proper bed. And maybe a bath as well.

Solas had been particularly quiet ever since they reached the Wellspring of the Titan. Not that he talked much during their time in the Deep Roads, but there was now an unsettling stillness about him combined with quiet sadness in his eyes. She wanted nothing more but to hold his hand and embrace him, watch as his full lips curve into a warm smile as he looked at her… And that image brought a hurt with it, deep into her core, a reminder of that night in Crestwood. She had tried asking him why he left, but all he gave was a non-answer. Only one sentence of his left an impact, shot through his air of indifference. When she mockingly remarked about him not letting anyone see under the polite mask he wore, his reply was simply— _ you saw more than most _ .

Perhaps…

“Ma serannas.” Solas’s words cut through her thoughts and the silence surrounding the group on their journey back.

“For what?”

“The Sha-Brytol barrier. You disposed of one of the warriors and then used your spectral blade to fend off lyrium projectiles coming my way. I am grateful.”

Syl went back to the answer he gave when she was the one thanking him for his timely rescue.  _ I did my part? _ No, that didn’t feel right here, as much as her sarcasm wanted a way out.

“Always, Solas.” The words blurted from her mouth on their own, in a lower tone of voice than she normally spoke. Earnest words they were and appeared to have an effect on the elf; his eyebrows raised ever so slightly and Syl could swear just a hint of blush was present too.

But he didn't say anything. Instead the unsettling stillness emanating from him got even stronger, his eyes even sadder. Unease gnawed at her heart, an uncertainty of the future. What will happen once they deal with Corypheus? What will she do? What will Solas?

The part of the Deep Roads they trekked started to feel familiar—it wouldn't be long until they reach the entrance. With the air around them filled with so much disquiet, the final push against Corypheus felt like it was just on the horizon.

  
  



End file.
